Redemption
by TrulyBeTold
Summary: Clarke and company are trapped inside the Mountain. Just as all hope seems to be lost, a few familiar faces rescue the Sky People from certain death. Clarke must face the woman who sent her to die and then saved her from it: Lexa. R&R.
1. We Seek Redemption

Clarke's grip on a metal pipe tightened as she smashed it into the handcuffs that held her mother in place. She grunted with each hit, the metal against metal sending sparks across the concrete floor. Bellamy and Octavia worked at Kane and Raven's chains, desperate in a race against time. Clarke hit harder, _clank clank clank._

"It's useless, Clarke," her mother stated blankly.

Breathless, Clarke shot her mother hardened look. "It's not over. Not yet," she commanded. She glanced around, the same hopeless, empty look in everyone's eyes. Less than half of the 47 were in this dungeon, and many of the adult leaders joined them in chains. Bellamy's sweat broke down his face as he grit his teeth together, chipping the wall with a blunt steel bar. Clarke looked to Octavia, the young warrior's brow knit in frustration, cursing under her breath. Raven leaned limply against the wall, blood seeping through her clothes. The others hung in their chains, the metal restraints the only object keeping them upright.

"We have to keep trying," Bellamy confirmed. Octavia simply grunted out in agreement, whispering encouragements to Raven.

Clarke nodded, turning back to her mother's blackened and bloodied hands. She went to strike again when her mother spoke her name. She paused, "Don't."

Abby Griffin sighed, exhausted. "Clarke, you have done everything you could. You're just one person. An incredibly strong person-"

"Mom, please," Clarke's voice cracked as she tinkered with the cuffs.

"Someone your father would be proud of. Someone I'm proud of," Her mother lead on gently. She struggled to reach for Clarke's hand, trying to still her daughter. "I love you so much, Clarke."

Clarke let a few tears fall, her knees buckled, her body collapsing to the wall beside her mother. "I couldn't do it, Mom," she spoke, too tired and hurt to even cry. "I couldn't save us."

At this moment, Octavia held Raven up as the mechanic was nearing unconsciousness. Clarke and Octavia shared a knowing look, the warrior taking Raven's hands into her own. Clarke took her mother's. Bellamy finally ceased his actions, out of breath and angry. He, too, held his weight against the wall between Kane and Clarke. He breathed deeply, gripping the metal bar until his knuckles grew white. "One last fight, Griffin. We've got one last fight in us," he grumbled to his sister and Clarke. The blonde simply nodded, wondering how long the Mountain Men would return. A few minutes passed before the loud stomps of the Mountain soldiers echoed in the halls. Looks like they wouldn't have to wait for long. Clarke hugged her mother tightly, the two sharing a kind and forgiving stare as Clarke stood next to Bellamy and Octavia in the center of the room, ready to take on the next round of soldiers. Bellamy was right. She did have one last fight.

_Pow pow pow. _Screams. Cries. Yells. It happened quickly. Octavia's ears perked up and she rasped out "_Trigedasleng." _Yes, it was the grounder's mother tongue reaching their ears through the cement and metal walls. Faint, hard to understand, but there. Gun shots rang out, ricocheting outside the room. Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a confused look, "Reapers?" He asked. Clarke shrugged her shoulders, baffled. There was something about the ruckus outside that turned her insides hot. It sparked the ember of hope that always remained burning. Her brain screamed to slaughter whatever came through the door, but something inside her said it would not be an enemy. More bullets crashed, screams of the dying piercing the air and the stench of blood seeping underneath the door. Whatever was happening outside, was a massacre. Clarke swallowed dryly, changing her stance and crouching slightly. Bellamy and Octavia assumed their own battle stances as the noise drew nearer. In the dungeon, whispers turned to panicked cries from those conscious enough to process the commotion. The blonde leader's eyes fixed on the door, aware but ignoring her mother's pleas and Kane's direction.

She had one more fight left. She would have one more chance at blood. One more chance to vindicate her people.

Then, in a slow second, the noise transformed. The screams of pain and sound of gunfire dwindled quickly, leaving a few moments of stagnant silence, before a chanting began, gradual at first, but then gaining momentum and force. _"Jus drein jus daun, __Jus drein jus daun." _Two loud whacks on the dungeon door was all it took before it opened, falling flat to the floor. Before them stood a pack of grounders. Clarke recognized them as some of the Tree Clan's strongest warriors, their bodies marred in blood and dirt. They chanted heavily, entering the room, pride in their eyes. The Sky People gasped, both afraid and relieved. Clarke and the Blake siblings held their ground, the siblings narrowing their eyes at the people they once considered equal. The grounders formed a half circle in the room, clanging their blood soaked weapons together, repeating _j__us drein jus daun _like a scratched record. Clarke readied to attack when the warriors parted. Indra entered through them, dragging an unconscious and possibly dead Emerson behind her, tossing him carelessly at Bellamy's feet. Bellamy backed away at first, but then the sight of the man enraged him. He went to strike but Clarke stopped him, for Indra was not alone.

Lincoln appeared second, his shoulder bleeding, his eye swollen. He limped toward Octavia, the girl taking not a second longer before rushing to him. The young warrior swung her arms around his neck, and he squeezed her tightly. Together, they held one another up as a pleading cry made it's way through the lines of warriors. President Cage screamed and begged, Clarke recognized his voice. He was being pushed into the room, but Clarke couldn't see by who. It wasn't until he was kicked to his knees that she saw.

She saw Lexa. Chest heaving, a wild look in her darkened eyes. Despite her size, she looked stronger than ever. Her grip on Cage was iron-like, the pain and pride behind her expression rippling. Drenched in blood, she whipped his head back by his hair, a knife to his carotid. Cage's face was blue with bruises, his suit stained in red. He went to move, but she kneed him hard in the ribs, Cage whimpering from the pain. "_Jus drein jus daun, Skaikru. _The Mountain is yours. This filth," she spat, speaking to the whole room, but avoiding Clarke's eyes. "His blood will be ours to share. The rest of Skaikru awaits below for their leaders." She took her knife and dug it into the shoulder of the President. He cried loudly, and Clarke noticed a small smirk on Lexa's lips. "We will take him and the guilty to camp," Lexa clarified. "And there, you shall experience a thousand deaths," she said into his ear, her voice stern and wicked. Lexa finally looked to Clarke, and the blonde simply nodded in agreement. Lexa spoke to her warriors and they took the President and Emerson away.

The rest of the warriors stayed behind, relieving the Sky people of their bonds, helping the weak and carrying the injured. Clarke stood silently. She couldn't move, she couldn't look away from Lexa's piercing stare. "Come on, Clarke," Bellamy asked, carrying Raven in his arms, Wick at their side. And because there were so many things running through Clarke's mind, but her mouth was so paralyzed in shock, she simply nodded, following her friends and aiding her mother out of the room.

In a few short moments, the room was near empty, the last of the warriors and Sky people exiting. Lexa stood grounded, her hands in tight fists. She wanted to say Clarke's name, to tell her everything. To explain.

"Commander," Indra stated tersely. She placed a heavy hand on Lexa's shoulder. "Your plan was successful. It is time to punish the guilty."

Lexa flashed her a look, a knowing look, and nodded, following Indra out the door.


	2. Punishments

The Skaikru and Grounders made it back to camp after over an hour or two of struggling. The innocent were left inside the mountain, to be dealt with the following day. Several Grounders simply carried Sky people, some leaned on another, limping and straggling through the woods. Clarke among them, dragged her tired body behind Lexa's troop. She kept running though the last several hours over and over again in her mind. So many questions swirled in her head. And as infuriated as she was, she needed to have those questions answered immediately. Upon entrance to the camp, Lexa stepped up to a platform where Cage and several other head Mountain Men were tied to large wooden poles. People chanted. Clarke stood off the the side, leaning on her mother for support. Abby simply kissed Clarke's head, both too tired for words. With a wave of her hand, Lexa silenced the crowd of shouting Grounders and Sky People.

"The People of Skaikru and Trigedakru have fought fearlessly tonight. And it was not in vain. We have our people back," Lexa rang out, the crowd cheered. "Clarke of the Sky People," she addressed Clarke, the blonde reluctant to acknowledge the attention. She gave a firm nod. "Your plan, despite the odds, was successful. I thank you for you and your people's sacrifices during these great battles. Skaikru, you have fought like warriors," she said with an appreciative tone. "Trigedakru," she addressed her own people in their language, Clarke was certain the message rang similar. They roared again. Returning to English, Lexa's voice rumbled. "Tonight the Mountain Men will suffer. The blood begins when the moon is at its' highest and they will bleed long into the morning sun. They will feel the pain of no less than thousand deaths. I offer all our people a chance at blood," Lexa proposed. She took her dagger and shoved it hard into the wood above Cage's head. "These people will wish they had never seen the ground," she spat in his face, the crowds cheering again. "Skaikru and Trigedakru, the ceremonies will begin at once. We will celebrate our victory, remember our honored dead, and punish the condemned." With those last words, the crowd erupted to it's loudest. Clarke watched as Lexa said something to Indra and some of her other warriors before disappearing into her tent. Alone.

The camp was bustling, the grounder healers tended to the injured and Abby, although weak, immediately jumped into help Raven. Octavia and Lincoln dispersed among the weak, aiding them to help and fetching various tinctures and canisters of water. Bellamy tended to Jasper and Monty, the three deciding how they could be of service. Clarke stood silent, watching. Indra and a few other warriors help carry the Sky people to the healing tents, Clarke noted the palpable distance between the older warrior and her former second. Other grounders left the medical assistance to the healers and began at once on preparing a feast. It took no longer than fifteen minutes to catch the scent of roast boar on the fire. Normally, Clarke would have been by her mother's side, taking direction and tending to the wounded. But, this time, there was only one person on her mind. She headed to Lexa's tent, only momentarily stopped by the guards before allowing entrance. Inside, candle light warmed the walls. The war planning table stood before her, Lexa toward the back of the tent. The Commander had removed all of her armor, dressed only in a long sleeved, blood and dirt stained shirt and baggy pants. She held a rags in her hand and dropped them into a bowl. Her back was to Clarke as the blonde neared silently.

Lexa removed her shirt, a snug band covered her breasts. Clarke saw her back muscles tense underneath the grime and gore. She relaxed instantly, and continued to soak the rags. "I didn't expect to see you this soon," Lexa commented, indifference in her voice. She turned, taking a rag to her cheeks, the blood and war paint staining the rag.

"I didn't expect to see you ever again."

"Well, war is full of surprises."

"I can't believe you did that," Clarke spat, angry with Lexa's casual tone. "Actually, you know what? I can. That's the disgusting part. You traded us-"

"I saved you!" Lexa corrected, a fire in her eyes. "I did what I had to do to save my people, and I saved yours as well. Do not ignore that fact." She spoke sternly as she continued to wipe the marks of war away.

Clarke balled her fists, stepping closer. "You deceived me! I thought you had betrayed us!"

"Deceit was necessary for the plan to work. There had no other choice. Just as there had been no other choice but to strike the deal." Lexa washed the blood, water trickling down her chest and abdomen. She would never allow another to be in her quarters during such a moment, but she knew better than to ask Clarke to leave. "Emerson had us surrounded. He proposed a deal, and I had to accept-"

"Bullshit! There was a way, there is always a way and always a fight. You were just too eager to save your own to consider it," Clarke growled, the words changing Lexa's expression into one filled with hurt. "What did you expect? A warm welcome? For us to get down on our knees and thank the great grounder commander for her bravery?! How long did it take before you decided to come back? How long was it while they bled Raven? While they beat my mother? While they strung my people up, picking them off like vultures?" Clarke was shouting at this point, Lexa grew worried.

"Lower your voice," Lexa ordered. "Say what you need to make yourself feel better, but be quiet about it. My people will not hear their commander challenged," Lexa warned.

Clarke laughed, the insincere sound unpleasant to Lexa's ears. "Right, I almost forgot. We wouldn't want anyone to think poorly of you. God, you're a piece of work."

Lexa raised a brow, her own emotions beginning to boil over. "I did what was needed, just as you would have. And I came back, just as you would have."

"Oh, right, let's talk about that. Just to clarify, was your heroic rescue part of that plan before you agreed to the deal or did the guilt of leaving us to die in the mountain bear too much for you?" The sky commander seethed, her arms were crossed across her chest as she glared into Lexa's eyes.

"Both." The brunette answered honestly. "I had reservations about returning to the mountain, but was reassured we had the man power to succeed. Indra lead us through the reaper tunnels and we killed or captured every soldier we came across. We came upon Cage and immediately took him down. You heard the rest."

The blonde wasn't finished being angry, at being lied to. The idea of it burned her. "I thought you'd left us to die," she said, her tone gritty with emotion. "Left _me_ to die," she corrected, her voice barely above a raspy whisper. "I trusted you."

Lexa, cast her eyes down, swallowing thickly. It was the first indication Clarke had offered at how much damage Lexa had done to her personally. But, she knew she had been in the right. She regained her composure. "Then you should have trusted not to be abandoned. Clarke, I will not apologize for the actions I've taken as commander, that includes deceiving you and your people. I acted as I saw fit, and the chance of rescuing my people turned into a certainty. My people will always come first. Regardless of my own personal matters."

"While your rationale seems fair, your apologies are worthless," Clarke commented, seeing the sting of her statement cross Lexa's face. She turned away, facing the war planning table.

Lexa, though hurt by Clarke's comment, hid it. She straightened her back and resumed her matter-of-fact tone. "I only reserve apologies for you. You are the only person I mislead," Lexa continued, stepping next to the blonde near the table's edge. "Clarke," she said, her voice low and cracking, "I am sorry. I'm sorry you felt I left you to die, but I didn't know how else to save you-"

"Don't!" Clarke yelled, backing away. "Don't tell me something that will mean nothing later on. Save your lies, Lexa!" Clarke's voice grew strong again.

Lexa huffed in disbelief. "Do you think I wanted this to happen? I wanted your plan to work, and for the most part it did. But, when a knife was pointed at my throat and a deal laid in my hands, I had a decision to make. No, I could not have guaranteed your safety, but I could saved my people. It was die with thousands of others in vain, or make an agreement I knew would hurt you. It was an impossible decision."

A heavy silence fell between them, the tension palpable in the air. Lexa shifted on her feet, waiting and watching for Clarke's response. Finally, the blonde spoke. "The worst part is, is I get it. I understand why you did was you did. I hate it, but, I understand." Clarke saw a flash of something akin to hope cross Lexa's gaze, she was quick to add, "But, forgiveness is something I've never treated lightly."

"I understand," Lexa responded, her shoulders slouching slightly. She sighed, rubbing the dried blood from her forearms. "Clarke, I respect your decisions. I always have, and if forgiveness is not a possibility, I certainly hope the alliance would remain strong-

"Don't worry. I'm learning to bury _any_ ounce of feeling I had deep down. The alliance is safe, so long as you and your people stave from betraying us," Clarke retorted.

The Commander frowned, "You have my word, Clarke. Just as you always have." A heavy air hung between the two young leaders, a mixture of angst and bitterness painting their expressions. Clarke was never quick to forget those who had wronged her. It was possibly her most negative trait, but it was a characteristic she had held onto. That said, she did recognize when pleasantries where a necessity.

"You really could have left us," she began with a harsh exhale. She crossed her arms protectively before continuing, "But you didn't. And on behalf of my people, I thank you for that." She saw pain grace Lexa's olive eyes, the brunette leader casting her eyes down. Lexa stood silent, her hands fiddling with the rag. The Sky leader waited for a response, and when she got none, she turned to exit. "Well, see you at the celebration."

"Clarke, wait."

Her back to the grounder, Clarke swallowed thickly. Her temper still boiled beneath her skin, but something else was there too. An understanding. A wanting. She felt Lexa move behind her. She both dreaded and craved her touch. She tensed at the sensation of fingertips on the sides of her arms, a subtle, barely noticeable trace. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, the first time since she had been in Lexa's tent last, she relaxed. Her brain fired signals to run, to head for the farthest hill or the deepest sea. But, she stood still, relaxed under the touch of a woman she'd despised no more than three hours previous. The pressure of Lexa's fingers grew as she wrapped her hands over Clarke's arms, daring to step closer. Clarke felt Lexa's front against her spine, their curves fitting together without difficulty. Unable to stop herself, Clarke leaned into Lexa's warm, damp body. She felt a knot form in her throat, the turmoils of the last day surfacing. And, despite the dangers Lexa had previously put her through, she felt safe.

Lexa's soft breath tickled near her ear, the grounder tentatively drawing her arms around Clarke's middle. "I care only for you. Your death is the only one I fear."

Swallowing hard, trying to think with her head and not her heart, Clarke winced. "Things can't be the same, Lexa. They couldn't." She tore herself from Lexa's arms, and hurried to leave the Commander's tent. Out in the open, the chaos of celebration still buzzed. Clarke's mind was spinning, and so she did the only thing that would distract her. She saw her mother tending to the injured and was quick to jump in to help, desperate to hold onto her fading anger.

* * *

**A/N: Clexa feels, man. Basically, my attempt at anything that would redeem Lexa. Probably going to extend to four chapters because I can't get enough of these two. R&amp;R. **


	3. High Moon, Far Sun

A/N: Trigger warning for detailed violence/torture, nothing you wouldn't be suitable for the actual show.

* * *

The anger ignited in Lexa's eyes, her piercing stare shooting through Cage like a hot blade. "Jus drein jus daun," she spat through clenched teeth. She took her dagger with great precision as she carved a mark into Cage's bare chest. He let out a shrill cry, tense against the wooden pole he was tied to. Clarke squinted to see the mark through the blood. She watched from the side and saw Indra, Lincoln, and a few other grounders carve the same sign into the four other Mountain Men soldiers. The bloodied markings bore a similar resemblance to an arrow, garnished with lines darting in four directions. Clarke had never seen it before, her brow quirked catching Lexa's attention. The Commander turned to the small gathered group of Sky People and announced in a calm, stern voice. "This mark is the sign of the justice. It may only be used in such ceremonies, the highest regard for our belief that blood must have blood," she turned to the hollering herd of Grounders and Sky people before the platform of soon-to-be dead men. "I offer the gift of first salt to the Sky People," she declared. A young boy came on the platform and presented Lexa with a large wooden bowl. Lexa took it and turned to Clarke, "Clarke of the Sky People, first salt for you and four of your highest," she spoke with a small nod. Clarke was confused but turned to the group behind her. "Mom, Kane," she immediately spoke. "Octavia, and Bellamy." It was an easy choice for Clarke. She knew those chosen were respected amongst the Grounders and deserved to be a part of whatever ceremony was about to take place. "What do we do?" Clarke asked.

Lexa spoke in Trigedasleng and Indra, Lincoln, and the other two grounders guided the Sky people to each Mountain Man. Lexa spoke loudly for all to hear, but her eyes never left Clarke's. "The first blood drawn with first cut is painful, but the first salt is excruciating." They stood in front of Cage, his head hung low, weak from being strung up and beaten. Lexa had a look of excitement in her eyes, which both terrified and intrigued the Sky leader. "Take the salt," she instructed, waving the bowl in front of the blonde. Clarke took a handful, the light pink crystals gritty in her palm. She thought it was pretty never having seen pink salt. She glanced to Lexa for further instruction as the bowl was passed around. Lincoln and Octavia stood in front of a soldier, Kane and Indra in front of Emerson, Bellamy, her mother, the grounders with the other two soldiers. Each Skaikru member stood with salt in their hand, a Trigedakru warrior beside them and a Mountain Men before them. Clarke felt barbaric, but she felt right, too. Like a primal instinct took over every time she participated in a grounder ritual. "Put the salt to the mark," Lexa guided.

Clarke understood now. She nodded and in a quick, hard movement pushed the salt into Cage's open wound. He howled in pain and with her gesture, her people did the same. Screams filled the air but were overpowered by the chanting of the crowd that cheered at their pain. Clarke's palm was flat against Cage's chest as she ground the salt into his skin, his blood mixed with the salt turning it into a glob of bright red crystals. He tensed and flinched, letting out a smattering of curse words. Clarke didn't pay attention, she was too focused on her ministrations. She pressed harder, feeling his skin separate under her fingers. She felt tears rise to her eyes as she remembered all the pain Cage and his people caused and it made her push harder, blood and salt seeping through her fingers and down the back of her hand. After a moment, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Lexa.

The Commander looked at her not with a violence that she had seen moments before, but a softness reserved only for Clarke. She gave a short nod, and Clarke's lip quivered. "He will suffer, they all will," Lexa promised. Clarke blinked back her tears, she drew back her hand. It trembled, covered in the salt of her ally and the blood of her enemy. Lexa took it by the wrist, and held it high. She spoke in her mother tongue, and the others followed the gesture. After a minute of cheering from the crowd, Lexa turned to her with the same look of excitement. "The ceremony has begun."

* * *

Hours later, it was nearing sunrise. Clarke was borderline delirious with exhaustion, she had managed to sneak a few quick naps in but the chaos of the celebration continued to engage her. The Grounders and Skaikru ate, drank, danced, and celebrated the liberation of their peoples together. She continued to tend to the injured, helping her mother and attempting to keep her mind from Lexa. The Commander positioned herself in her throne near the platform held the prisoners. She had been overseeing their torture most of the evening, inviting anyone who wished to inflict pain to the platform but insuring no one would deliver a fatal blow. That was her role.

Clarke was taken aback at first by the hordes of people that wished to participate. They flocked the platform, spitting words at the men and eager to draw a knife and spill salt into their wounds. Lexa's words were true, they would experience a thousand deaths. They begged for it often, but Lexa merely smiled at their pleas before issuing another blow.

Clarke sat near a fire, picking at some meat her mother forced her to eat. She stared into the fire, the sound of drums, laughter, and screams hypnotizing her. A tap on her shoulder drew her out of it. "Brutal, isn't it?" Bellamy commented, perching himself next to her.

"Yes, but deserving," Clarke stated. He nodded in agreement. He ate also, probably his fourth serving Clarke thought. "What are we going to do after this?" She wondered.

He only sighed, shrugging his shoulders and speaking with a mouth full of meat. "Try to live, try to forget maybe," he ran a hand through his hair, eyes fixated on the platform where a young girl dug a knife in Emerson's knee. "We have to build a life for ourselves."

"How?"

Bellamy turned his attention to her, she stared back at him, truly lost. "By protecting each other, taking care of each other. Just as we always have."

The Sky leader thought for a moment, digesting his words. She picked at her food, "Do you think the alliance can last? After the party's over, the Mountain Men dead-"

"It has to. We need them, Clarke. We've done well on our own, and better with whatever we can salvage from the Ark, but it's not going to be enough," Bellamy said, chasing the meat with gulps of water. A piercing scream broke their conversation, their eyes darting to the platform. An elderly man held something up in the air, chanting in Trigedasleng. The soldier behind him howled into the night, blood draining from the side of his head. Bellamy's eyes grew in size. "He just cut off his ear!"

Clarke set her plate down, her appetite officially gone. She stole of Bellamy's water, the brutality of the Grounders not really surprising her. "You're right, about the alliance, and building a life. It just feels like it's more complicated than that."

The boy cracked a smile, "Of course it is, Princess. It's always going to be more complicated than that. But, we've made it this far. Some how, we've made it this far and we can't just give up our second chance to _live_."

His words brought a smile to Clarke's lips, "When did you become so wise?"

"Earth'll do that to you," He grinned back. Octavia called him from across camp and he waved to her. "Better go see what O needs. Eat up, Clarke," he said with a simple pat on her back. She thanked him and picked up the plate. He was right. About everything. She put a piece of meat, what she thinks might be boar, into her mouth and chewed. It tasted good, Grounder food always did. Her eyes grazed the celebration.

Drummers and dancers were in the center, laughing and performing with grace. Within yards of them was the platform, a line of both Grounders and Sky People awaited to present the Mountain Men with hideous pain. The injured were off to the side, necks craning every so often to see the punishments. Opposite were Lexa and her throne, her highest warriors around her. Lexa's smirk was plastered to her face, not quite smiling but definitely amused with the proceedings. Clarke stood and headed for the Commander.

Clarke stood before Lexa, not sure what she intended on saying but feeling the need to say something. But, this certainly was not the place.

"Clarke of the Sky People," Lexa addressed, the smirk wiped away. "Is there something-"

"I need to speak to you," Clarke interrupted. "In private."

Lexa glanced around to her companions, straightening her shoulders. "Of course," she said simply, gesturing to her tent behind her. She said something to Indra in Trigedasleng, the older woman nodded. Clarke followed Lexa into the Commander's tent, the Sky leader tense. Once in private, she swallowed thickly as Lexa turned to face her. "What is it, Clarke? Is there a problem?" She spoke, a twinge of concern lacing her voice.

Clarke's brow knit and she shook her head, "Uh, no, no. Not- nothing like that-"

Lexa cocked her head to the side, "Then what is the need for privacy?"

The blonde wrung her hands together forcibly, unsure what to say. "Before the battle, I told you I wanted more than survival. That we deserved more, all of us. That we deserved to _live_," she began. Lexa nodded with understanding, her hand on the hilt of her sword and the other toying with a string on her tunic. She was nervous, Clarke realized. "My people need your people, we need this alliance to stand strong."

"Clarke, I have no intentions of letting this alliance fade, I assured you of that earlier," Lexa responded, a timidness streaking her voice that Clarke rarely saw. "I understand your trust in me has faltered by my own accord, but I-"

"I know. And I believe you. I don't even get how I could, after what you did, but I believe you," Clarke said. Lexa quieted, casting her eyes down as she was reminded of her deception. Clarke took a step forward to the Commander, "Lexa, I want to hate you... But, I can't." Lexa glanced up, her eyes searching for meaning behind Clarke's words. The Sky leader moved closer. "And I can't _live_ wanting to hate you."

Lexa swallowed dryly, her grip on the hilt tightening. "I can't live with you wanting to hate me," she said, her voice just above a whisper. Her eyes bore into Clarke's desperate for forgiveness.

Closer again, Clarke was inches from Lexa. She saw the worry in the Commander's eyes, the concern. She felt her own eyes well, and just couldn't do it anymore. She broke. Clarke Griffin let the tears fall. She cried softly, quietly, head down in embarrassment. She cried a little harder when she felt hands cradle her head into Lexa's chest, the thud of the Commander's heart echoing in her ears. She felt Lexa hold her tight, impossibly tight, trying to get as close as possible. Clarke cried into Lexa's neck, her tears slipping down her cheeks and onto the tanned skin beneath her. "I want to live and to love, and I'm afraid," she confessed, breaking their embrace to stare at Lexa. She was surprised to see tears brimming on the edges of the brunette's olive eyes. "Because most of all, I want that with you."

Pressing a kiss to Clarke's head, Lexa let a tear fall. It had been years since another person had seen her shed a tear. And in this moment, that didn't matter. "Clarke, I am so sorry. Sorry for everything," Lexa spoke softly into Clarke's ear. She held onto the blonde, wondering how she could feel so great and horrid at the same time. She pulled Clarke from her chest, the blonde's face streaked with tears. Lexa wiped them away, kissing each of Clarke's cheeks. "I will spend the rest of our days together trying to bring you happiness. If you let me."

Clarke didn't waste another moment. She kissed Lexa, her lips pressed hard to the brunette. She felt Lexa kiss back. Their lips melded together, a mash of tongues and teeth, of need and love. A few seconds later, Clarke broke them apart. They breathed heavily, Lexa's eyes searching for more answers. "I need more time," she said, a hint of sadness in her eyes, but hope, too. "But, it will get easier. I just need more time."

"Clarke, I will give you all the time I can offer," Lexa responded effortlessly. She pulled Clarke closer, as if it would be a long while before she could have her close again. And maybe, it was. She kissed Clarke's cheek again, blushing at her affections but too worried about when next time would be. Clarke let her, and she let herself. She buried herself in Lexa, in her chest, her hair, her arms, and her scent. She kissed Lexa's neck, willing herself to remember the taste of her. "You can have forever," Lexa whispered in her ear.

Her words hit Clarke hard, and as much as she wanted to forget everything Lexa did hours earlier, she couldn't. She couldn't forget how her stomach turned into a sinking pit when Lexa uttered the deal. How much it burned and stung to hear her betrayal, it rolling off her tongue effortlessly and coolly. It marred Clarke's image of Lexa when she spoke the words "may we meet again", the words too finite and hopeless. She remembers her skin tingling with disgust and the words of hatred she uttered to Bellamy and Octavia as they wove through the mountain. She felt foolish. What did it mean that Clarke was so quick to assume Lexa had truly abandoned her? The longer Clarke held onto the girl she cared most for, the longer that thought grew. "I should have trusted you. I'm sorry," she cried, her fingers gripping into Lexa's back fiercely.

The Commander pushed Clarke away, holding her chin in her hand gently. "No, Clarke. Do not apologize," she declared, her voice steady but soft. She leaned forward to press a chaste kiss on Clarke's lips, but she blonde wanted more. She deepened the kiss, growing desperate and hungry. She was confused, and hurt, but kissing Lexa made all the horrors go away. Again, Clarke felt safe. Lexa broke them apart, tracing kisses along Clarke's jaw and settling to rest their foreheads together. "I am afraid tonight you will sleep and tomorrow you will want to forget this," she breathed, her eyes searching Clarke's.

Holding Lexa's cheek in her hand, Clarke kissed Lexa again. With their faces mere inches apart, Clarke gazed into olive eyes. "I can't forget. Any of it. The battle, the bloodshed, how you made me feel back there," she began, the disappointment clear in Lexa's frown. "But, I can forgive. Eventually," she added, Lexa's frown turning hopeful. "And this," she gestured between them, "this is something I'll never forget, and I wouldn't want to."

A small smile broke on Lexa's lips, and she dropped her head to Clarke's shoulder. "Clarke of the Sky People, you speak many words that turn my cheeks red."

Clarke laughed. And when she laughed, she could have sworn she heard Lexa giggle, but their moment was quickly interrupted by a blood curdling scream followed by a raucous roar in Trigedasleng. "We should probably go back," Clarke decided, smiles still lingering on their faces.

Lexa must have realized how out of character this was, and straightened her spine, her features turning stoic. "You're right. They're expecting our presence," she turned for the door, but Clarke's hand caught hers, pulling her attention to the blonde behind her. "Yes?"

"Tell me everything will be okay?" Clarke asked, concern lacing her features.

"Everything will be fine," Lexa offered, squeezing Clarke's hand. "With time," she emphasized. Clarke nodded, and followed Lexa out the tent. She continued to trail behind Lexa as the Commander resumed her position in her throne. "Do you wish to sit?" She offered the empty chair next to her that had been occupied by several warriors all evening. "The second ceremony is about to begin."

* * *

"The first part of the ceremony began when the moon was at its highest," Lincoln explained to an exhausted group of Sky People. Abby and Kane forced themselves to stay awake despite every muscle in their body begging for sleep. They, behind Clarke, were considered highest of their people and decided it was important for the alliance to participate in the rituals. But, they hadn't approached the platform since they distributed the salt. They sat amongst Bellamy, Wick, and Raven, who was delirious with pain medication and often lolled in and out of sleep.

"That's when the first cut and salt were made," Octavia elaborated. Abby was impressed with how well-informed Octavia was regarding everything Grounder.

Lincoln nodded, and pointed to the sky behind the platform. "The sunrise marks the second part of the ceremony."

"What happens with that?" Abby inquired. Her eyes grazed the crowd and spotted Clarke sitting at the right hand of the Commander, Lexa leaning close to Clarke and speaking to her. Abby wondered if Clarke was only sitting with the Commander as an act of leadership, and decided she must ask her about it later.

The Grounder sighed deeply. Lincoln did not always agree with this peoples' methods, but he understood deep down those men deserved it. "They will be washed with a poison that burns the open skin-"

"Jesus Christ," Kane muttered, rubbing his brow.

"The poison bubbles the skin, it breaks it to the fat then to the muscle and eventually the bone," Lincoln added. "Of course, the cutting and salting does not end with the poison. It will all continue until the men are dead or until the sun is the furthest from the ground-"

"At noon," Octavia clarified. Lincoln nodded.

Abby was nauseated by the thought of watching the men disintegrate in front of her but she tried to focus on the horrors they created and nothing else. "What if they're still alive?"

Gesturing to the Commander, Lincoln spoke simply. "Heda will end them with her sword. Most do not make it to die by the hand of the Heda, but I believe she is keeping them alive and in pain just long enough to take their lives herself."

"Seems like something she would do," Abby commented, brushing her hair out of her face.

Octavia was rolling bandages, leaning into Lincoln's chest. "Didn't you tell me their heads would be put on stakes and their bodies dragged by horses to the cliffs?"

Kane and Abby's expressions were mirrored with shock. Lincoln pressed his lips together in a firm line, "It is a possibility, if the Heda chooses."

Several screams broke their conversation as Cage was dumped with a white foaming liquid. It was stuck to his wounds and foamed more, tinted pink and purple. More screams and cries of agony followed as the remaining Mountain Men were washed with poison. The crowd cheered while the Sky People sat in a quiet disbelief.

* * *

A/N: R&amp;R please! Probably one or two more chapters for this, haven't decided yet. I hope you all enjoyed the fluffy Clexa scene as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


	4. Lasting Words

A/N: Trigger warning for more graphic violence/torture; again, nothing you wouldnt probably see on the show! Enjoy!

* * *

Hours later, the hot sun beat down on Clarke's golden hair. Sweat dripped from her scalp down the back of her neck, the sticky saltiness making her itchy. She still sat next to Lexa, the young commander unbent by the warm air. Clarke glanced at the sky, at the sun, wondering when it would be at it's farthest point.

"It's almost over Clarke," Lexa spoke quietly, reading her mind. And, very uncharacteristically, the brunette laid a gentle hand on Clarke's shoulder blade, her thumb rubbing the sharp edge. Green eyes bore into blue ones, and a strange sense of impending peace swept over the blonde.

"Heda," Indra called out, in front of them now. Her stone-like gaze analyzed Lexa's hand on Clarke's shoulder, but quickly returned to business. "Heda, the Far Sun is here, the prisoners are still alive... enough."

Lexa retracted her hand and straightened in her chair, she nodded, "Thank you, Indra." The warrior left and Lexa turned to Clarke, anger and excitement painted her face as boldly as her war paint. "It's time."

Clarke stood at the platform side as Lexa addressed the crowd before them, her hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes intense. The crowd roared, grounders and Sky People alike. They chanted in the burning sun, "jus drein jus daun." Lexa strode on the platform, a faint smirk on her lips. In a quick and sudden motion, her hand shot to the sky and the crowd silenced. "Trigedakru, Skaikru," she announced, "the sun has reached the farthest point from the ground, and the filth prisoners will reach their end."

Clarke inhaled sharply. As barbaric as the ceremony had seemed, she felt it was appropriate. And that scared her. The more she involved herself in Grounder culture, the more it seemed necessary to life on Earth. Still there was plenty to grow accustomed to, but some strange voice in Clarke's head told her things would get easier. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets as Lexa continued to speak.

"Many moons ago, our ancestors spilled their blood to give us life. They sacrificed for us, giving us land and law. Then, the monsters of the mountain came and took their sons and daughters. For several summers after, our people suffered at the hands of these savages. They took our people, our men, women, children, and elders for blood. But now, our ancestors smile upon us because we have avenged the dead and protected the living," the crowd cheered in their mother tongue, joined in by the Sky People. Lexa squared her shoulders as she paced the platform. "And because the battle could not have been won without the Skaikru and their leaders," Lexa turned to Clarke, "I continue to honor their aid by inviting Clarke of the Sky People to stand by my side during the last ritual." Lexa held out her hand, and despite the rigid look on her face, Clarke noticed the slight tremble in Lexa's fingers.

Clarke swallowed hard, and stepped onto the platform. Her fingers drifted from her pockets and into the brunette's, hesitant at first. But, Lexa was not. She was eager to link their hands together, tentative then firm. And after a second, Clarke returned the gesture. Lexa guided them to the front of the platform, and held their hands high. The crowd cheered. Lexa was proud of the alliance, and Clarke was, too. She sought her people in the masses and saw them. They were weary but encouraging. The Blake siblings pumped their fists into the air, their wide mouths shouting Clarke's name. Raven was silent, too drugged and delirious to participate but still she managed a smile for the Sky Leader as she hung on Wick's side. Monty waved wildly in the background, but Jasper was no where to be seen. Kane clapped roughly, nodding his head in approval. And her mother. Abby Griffin grinned at her daughter, the leader. She waved at Clarke, and mouthed the words "I love you". Clarke let herself smile at the family she had found on the ground.

"Do you wish to speak before we begin?" Lexa said quietly to Clarke's ear, the blonde nodding yes. Lexa brought their joined hands down and reluctantly tried to let go, but was glad when Clarke tightened her grip. Lexa hoped the warm sun would hide the blush that swept over her cheeks.

Clarke inhaled slowly, she had never been one for speeches (Bellamy was far better at it) and she kind of wished he was up here. She gazed at the various faces before her, faces filled with hope, grief, and excitement. She glanced at Lexa, her fellow leader giving an nod of encouragement.

"Trigedakru," she said, "I believe I can speak on behalf of my people when I say thank you. Our alliance was not forged easily, nor have we been able to fully understand each other's ways. But, we were able to find a bond in the mutual hatred of our enemy. With the Mountain Men gone, I have strong faith that we will be able to find solidarity in friendship." To her surprise, the Tree Clan cheered. They chanted her name in a rough tone as Lexa squeezed her hand. Clarke continued, "To everyone from the Ark, Skaikru," she added, "Earth was not the paradise we expected. We fell to the Mountain Men as many have for years. At times our mission for rescue seemed impossible, but with the determination and skill of all people here, we succeeded. My only hope for us now is to not just survive here on the ground, but actually live," she said, promise in her heart. Her people hollered and she couldn't help but smile at Bellamy's grin. She turned to Lexa, "Let's do this."

Lexa shouted to Indra, the warrior joining them on stage. They spoke in Trigedaslang, before Indra called Octavia, Bellamy, and Lincoln to the platform. The Blake siblings stood awkwardly, trying to ask Clarke what was going on but Clarke just shrugged. Indra yelled to the crowd, "Bellamy of the Sky People, you honor yours with your skill inside the mountain. The first kill shall be yours." Indra handed him a long dagger and his eyes grew wide with nervousness. He fell back into line, tightening and loosening his grip on the handle.

"It's okay, Bellamy. Just do it quick," Clarke advised. He nodded.

"Lincoln kom trigedakru, you honor yours with your acts of bravery in the reaper tunnels. You shall have the second kill."

Lincoln bowed to Indra, accepting another blade without the slightest show of fright. He whispered to Bellamy, "This is one of the highest honors a warrior can have, be proud."

"Octavia of Skaikru and Trigedakru," Indra addressed the girl. Octavia, tight lipped and eyes fierce, approached the older woman. "You honor us all, a woman of the sky and of the ground, first of her kind. You shall take the third kill," Indra then bowed to Octavia who returned the gesture and thanked her in Trigedasleng. "I will honor those who suffered at Tondc with the fourth kill," she clarified, then turning to Clarke and Lexa, who's hands were still joined. "Heda Lexa and Heda Clarke will honor both our tribes with the fifth and final kill. Then, our ancestors will rest easy and the dead be avenged!" The crowds shouted and cheered, chanting in both languages, the sounds echoing through the forest.

Clarke unintentionally squeezed Lexas hand, the Commander leaned to her and said, "we will do this together, Clarke."

All eyes turned to Bellamy as he faced one of the Mountain Men. Uncertain, he held the dagger in his hand low at his waist. With no direction, and the slow burn of anger for the man in front of him, he struck. A slash formed across the neck of the man, blood spurting from open arteries, the red mist splashing onto Bellamy's face and chest. He grit his teeth together and grunted, "For my people." The man died quickly, the sounds of life leaving his body as he slumped against the wooden pole. Lincoln approached his prisoner, and did the same. The knife sliced through skin and vessels effortlessly, blood pouring from the wounds to form a puddle beneath their feet. Lincoln spoke in Trigedaslang, probably something along the same lines as Bellamy.

Octavia was next, and she took her sword from its sheath on her back. She gripped the hilt hard, her eyes narrowed. The man in front of her breathed roughly, grunting out each breath. She rose her sword to his neck, and in return he spit weakly at her, the blood streaked saliva dropping to the ground. She shook her head, a wicked smile forming on her lips. "You shouldn't have done that, those two were much nicer than I am," she growled. In an instant, Octavia dug her sword at the base of the man's navel and tore upwards. He howled in pain as his guts spilled onto the platform, choking on his own blood.

Clarke's jaw dropped slightly. Grounder life really had changed Octavia. It turned her from the silly girl who chased butterflies into the strong warrior who disemboweled prisoners. Clarke, as well as every one there, was a mixture of impressed and intimidated, save for Indra.

"I have trained you well," Indra commented before performing the same maneuver on Emerson, the man seconds from death anyway. He died quicker but just as messy.

Clarke was nervous for what Lexa had in mind for Cage. The rumors of brutality amongst Hedas was unwavering, and she could barely stomach Bellamy slitting a throat much less Octavia tearing an abdomen. She swallowed hard, all eyes on her and Lexa. The Commander removed her sword and put it between them. Her eyes directed Clarke to grab the hilt with her. They approached Cage, the man heaving with each inhale and whimpering with every exhale. His head hung low, his eyes lolling back and forth.

Together, they lifted the sword, Lexa guiding and Clarke following. The tip of the sword dented his chest, off center to the right. "Your suffering is almost over here, but I could not imagine what kind of agony the Gods will bring you," Lexa spoke, loud enough for all to hear. Then, her voice lowered as she spoke only to Clarke. "He will drowned in the blood borrowed from our people," she whispered. Clarke nodded, understanding now. Their eyes met as the sword pressed harder. Clarke felt it break through skin and muscle, fighting it's way between bone before it hit its mark. Cage wailed the entire time, or as much as he could muster. He cursed them and their people, but they remained unfazed by his words. They pulled the sword from his chest, Clarke twisting it on the way out and Lexa smirking with pride. They copied their action on his left. Cage grunted as the air in his lungs turned to blood. He squirmed against the pole, his eyes bulging as he suffocated on the borrowed blood. His teeth grit hard as he struggled to inhale, his airway slowly being occupied by thick fluid. They removed the sword and watched, their hands still joined together by the sword. The crowd roared behind them. Cage spit blood, the gasps turning to gurgles as his lungs filled. Clarke watched, never daring to turn her gaze away from the man that murdered her people. A few moments later, Cage rasped out his last few breaths as blood dripped from his lips.

"It is done," Lexa sighed quietly.


End file.
